The Guard
Page 18
I reached out to touch her, but then pulled back. I looked into her sleeping face and spoke.
“I—I came to tell you I’m sorry. About today, I mean.” I sucked in a deep breath. “I should have run for you. I should have protected you. I didn’t, and you could have died.”
Her lips pursed and unpursed as she dreamed.
“Honestly, I’m sorry for a lot more than that,” I admitted. “I’m sorry I got mad in the tree house. I’m sorry I ever said to send in the stupid form. It’s just that I have this idea . . .” I swallowed. “I have this idea that maybe you were the only one I could make everything right for.
“I couldn’t save my dad. I couldn’t protect Jemmy. I can barely keep my family afloat, and I just thought that maybe I could give you a shot at a life that would be better than the one that I would have been able to give you. And I convinced myself that was the right way to love you.”
I watched her, wishing I had the nerve to confess this while she could argue back with me and tell me how wrong I’d been.
“I don’t know if I can undo it, Mer. I don’t know if we’ll ever be the same as we used to be. But I won’t stop trying. You’re it for me,” I said with a shrug. “You’re the only thing I’ve ever wanted to fight for.”
There was so much more to say, but I heard the door to the hospital wing open. Even in the dark, Maxon’s suit was impossible to miss. I started walking away, head down, trying to look like I was just on a round.
He didn’t acknowledge me, barely even noticed me as he moved to America’s bed. I watched him pull up a chair and settle in beside her.
I couldn’t help but be jealous. From that first day in her brother’s apartment—from the very moment I knew how I felt about America—I’d been forced to love her from afar. But Maxon could sit beside her, touch her hand, and the gap between their castes didn’t matter.
I paused by the door, watching. While the Selection had frayed the line between America and me, Maxon himself was a sharp edge, capable of cutting the string entirely if he got too close. But I couldn’t get a clear idea of just how near America was letting him.
All I could do was wait and give America the time she seemed to need. Really, we all needed it.
Time was the only thing that would settle this.
“I—I came to tell you I’m sorry. About today, I mean.” I sucked in a deep breath. “I should have run for you. I should have protected you. I didn’t, and you could have died.”
Her lips pursed and unpursed as she dreamed.
“Honestly, I’m sorry for a lot more than that,” I admitted. “I’m sorry I got mad in the tree house. I’m sorry I ever said to send in the stupid form. It’s just that I have this idea . . .” I swallowed. “I have this idea that maybe you were the only one I could make everything right for.
“I couldn’t save my dad. I couldn’t protect Jemmy. I can barely keep my family afloat, and I just thought that maybe I could give you a shot at a life that would be better than the one that I would have been able to give you. And I convinced myself that was the right way to love you.”
I watched her, wishing I had the nerve to confess this while she could argue back with me and tell me how wrong I’d been.
“I don’t know if I can undo it, Mer. I don’t know if we’ll ever be the same as we used to be. But I won’t stop trying. You’re it for me,” I said with a shrug. “You’re the only thing I’ve ever wanted to fight for.”
There was so much more to say, but I heard the door to the hospital wing open. Even in the dark, Maxon’s suit was impossible to miss. I started walking away, head down, trying to look like I was just on a round.
He didn’t acknowledge me, barely even noticed me as he moved to America’s bed. I watched him pull up a chair and settle in beside her.
I couldn’t help but be jealous. From that first day in her brother’s apartment—from the very moment I knew how I felt about America—I’d been forced to love her from afar. But Maxon could sit beside her, touch her hand, and the gap between their castes didn’t matter.
I paused by the door, watching. While the Selection had frayed the line between America and me, Maxon himself was a sharp edge, capable of cutting the string entirely if he got too close. But I couldn’t get a clear idea of just how near America was letting him.
All I could do was wait and give America the time she seemed to need. Really, we all needed it.
Time was the only thing that would settle this.
